


'I'm Han Solo, here to rescue you!'

by CorellianSea



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Corellia, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Prince!Han, Tatooine, kingdom au, prince!luke, this... this is so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorellianSea/pseuds/CorellianSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">“It is I— Prince Han Solo from the northern Kingdom of Corellia, here for your rescue, Princess Leia!” Han thrust his heavy sword into the air and puffed his chest as he sweated buckets under his armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="small">Tatooine sucked ass, why was he here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="small">Oh, right— the credits! Because he owed Jabba some money, and Jabba wanted a piece of his fine ass but Han would be having <i>none</i> of that. None. <i>At All.</i></span>
</p><p>
  <span class="small">No, seriously— he couldn’t; Han was severely allergic to Hutts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="small">Looking up to the high tower, Han blinked past the sun and beads of sweat attacking his poor eyeballs. He was about to scream ‘HURRY UP’ before he fried beneath the rays of the binary suns when he heard an expletive being shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="small">“Well, blast it!”</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	'I'm Han Solo, here to rescue you!'

 

“It is I— Prince Han Solo from the northern Kingdom of Corellia, here for your rescue, Princess Leia!” Han thrust his heavy sword into the air and puffed his chest as he sweated buckets under his armor. 

Tatooine sucked ass, why was he here?

Oh, right— the credits! Because he owed Jabba some money, and Jabba wanted a piece of his fine ass but Han would be having _none_  of that. None.  _At All_.

No, seriously— he couldn’t; Han was severely allergic to Hutts.

Looking up to the high tower, Han blinked past the sun and beads of sweat attacking his poor eyeballs. He was about to scream _‘HURRY UP’_ before he fried beneath the rays of the binary suns when he heard an expletive being shouted.

“Well, blast it!”

“P-Pardon?” Han lowered his sword and exhaled loudly, somewhat dizzy. Damn. Han thought about how he should work on cardio more than his recent dead-lifting as he eyed the bit of pudge on his abdomen, poked it softly and watched the flesh yield to his touch with every jab.

Another curse was thrown into the air, smacking Han back to reality like a physical blow.

“Fierfek,” Luke sighed out while looking out the window and down the tower.

There was his prince, standing there in all his bright ass glory ‘cause the fucking binary suns were absolutely ridiculous 23/7 (yeah, 23 hours, get with the program already jeez not everything is like the planet you live on yourself ok have some respect for others man) and Luke wanted to push that glowing dude straight into a mud puddle to get some relief from the armor’s unrelenting glare, and all while Han was frowning at him because he’d sworn in Huttese.

Well, Luke assumed that was why.

Luke recalled the man speaking to him in Basic first, so, this guy knew Huttese, too? Wow. Being a prince sounded like it sucked Rodian balls. (But he was one too. Kinda.)

So, all that crap about not being able to do what you wanted ‘cause you had the money but not the time, ‘cause it was probably being used up to learn useless languages like _Rodinian_  that mostly sounded like a sequence of farts if anything— but wait a second, Luke _had_  to admit his rescuer _was_   pretty good looking once you got past the stupid shimmer still laying assault against his fucking corneas.

He wasn’t completely covered in the silver metal, Luke could see more than that.

(His eyes had adjusted by then, you have gotta learn to adapt on this dog-eat-ass rock or you’re Sarlacc bait.)

Luke found that the royal uniform of Corellia was so... clean looking. So… Glamorous. He had never seen something quite like that before. Wow, It was fascinating.

Han was ™Fabulous.

Luke wanted to run his hands over the fabric and just— _smell_  what it was like to have on beautiful clothing like that. But okay, hold up— you people really need to take in the fact that the _closest_  thing to a soft fabric being made here were made up of the extremely fine hairs near a Bantha’s ass.

It's gross; Luke can't be blamed.

Anyway, don’t even get Luke _started_  on how his prince looked down there. With a sword strapped to his side, a long blue cloth draped down his chest plate, his brown hair all mussed up, and eyebrows so deeply furrowed at him that even the severely perplexed frown blending in added to how he just about stole his heart the moment their gazes met.

Was this love at first sight? Totally.

“Uh— so, Princess Leia, what’s wron—”

“Luke. And uhm— a dick.” the blond haired dude that was a clearly a dude (they’re both dudes, just letting you know) corrected Han shortly.

The other dude was ‘???’ at Luke and Luke was forced to elucidate his words. “…I mean, _my name_  is Luke, not Leia.”

Han looked about as dumbfounded as he felt, but in time, he shook his head wildly and wiped the sweat away from his eyes as if to clear the confusion away. Recovering enough brain power for thought, Han then pointed at his own crotch and looked at the young man with an inquisitive look that reminded Luke his mentioning of a penis.

“Oh! And _I’ve_  got a dick.”

“Annnd, _I_ think I got the wrong castle address. Sorry about that.”

Han then quickly sheathed his sword and turned away without another word, wondering where to go next if he wanted to find princess Leia so he could collect the reward for returning her to her kingdom. Because in the end, his debt was quite a hefty one, and it really sucked.

Now, at this point, one of you may be asking either yourself or out loud, and probably doing so without permission to speak; something along the likes of: ‘Greetings, Royal Son of Corellia; you’re a kind, charming, generous (not to be mistaken for ‘gorgeous’ or even ‘drop-dead gorgeous’, but it seems that it’s also in this list and we just spoke too soon apparently) gorgeous, smooth talking, downright handsome son-of-a-gun. So, why do you owe so much money to a smuggling ring leader and why don’t you simply pay him back because you’re rich (and a (gorgeous) prince) [For the love of George Lucas’s diet coke— would someone  _please_ _check the parenthesis regulator guy] and rich people can do that?’

Well, that’s because Han wasn’t a total dick and wouldn’t use the taxpayer’s money; his own people’s hard earned tolls to pay off his own personal debts.

God, you people are Sick for thinking that. Every one of you. Ridiculous. ‘Cause like‚ when is Han anything short of all the above-mentioned things? Even by a smidge? Name one time. No? Yeah.  
  
And it totally wasn’t that he couldn’t remember taun-taun shit about a particular incident in which he ended up losing a ton of high-grade spice in Jabba’s expense. Alas, Jabba had some solid proof of his debt and there was no doubt that it was really him in the images. 

Even Chewbacca was there— although, in the background and away from the general drunk mess that was Han Solo after not even two hours of partying into the evening— either way, it was authentic, and that was a huge problem for Han.

Portable HoloImagers were evidently very handy things to have in ‘spur-of-the-moment’ kinds of situations and that—.,., and that was… that was very unfortunate for Han.

According to the Hutt, Jabba was willing to make an exception if he spent _one_ measly night with the slug. One evening where they could have a ‘good time’. Jabba had slurred that to him while dragging his sausage for a tongue across his gross, chapped lips.

However, Han had a feeling Jabba wasn’t referring to just _any_ general types of fun and exciting ‘spur-of-the-moment’ kind of events, but ones where he would probably end up getting squashed by a grubby Hutt on a dingy bed, only after persuading the prince to let him have his way with him, with no holds barred, and the slate would be wiped clean between them both.

“Sir, aren’t you going to save me— what about me— hey! Where are you going?”

Han stopped and turned around, saw the other waving their arms wildly, doing their best to catch his attention from way up high. As the kid continued his protest, the cogs in Han’s brain creakily turned.

“No, please come back! No, no, no, why are you leaving? I need to be saved, too!”

“Wait, so, you’re not a princess, right?”

Han cupped his chin with one hand thoughtfully, pondered if he could just save this royal instead of making the long trip of finding that other princess and having to save her from whatever peril she was in. It would save him a ton of time and less walking around in this stupid suit of armor his adviser said was for ‘aesthetic purposes’ only.

Whatever that meant.

Luke lowered his arm then, confusion chasing across his face. His hopes began to sink. “Yeah, I’m not. Kind of. Technicalities might take too long to explain… Is that going to be a problem for your chivalry, sir?”

“Are you _royalty_?”

Luke lurched forward and almost fell out the window just to hear. He cupped his ear and asked Han to repeat the question.

“Do you have _royalty_ in your blood!”

“Do I have toiletries… —?” Luke whipped his head around to see his trusty droid rolling up to him.

“Artoo, have you got any idea what this loony is trying to say to me? Oh? He said _that_? Oh.” Luke looked back out the window and saw Han 10 feet further away from where he’d been before.  
  
Luke barked out a freakin’ weird sound at the realization, and this time, he _really_ managed to almost launch his dumbass self out the window in his frenzy.

Artoo screamed and launched his entire fucking metal body toward his master and grounded him by crushing the poor dude.

(Artoo probably weighs like 300 pounds if you think about it, he’s got thrusters and a whole engine motor wow that’s heavy as fuck poor luke)

Han turned back to the freakin tower for like the _third_ time already.

If he was going to spend all his time walking back and forth from here to the main road, then he may as well just say he had tried looking for her today because bodily effort was being expended against his will and he was tired of that shit.

When he faced the guy again, Han had half a mind to tell him a thing or two about wasting precious time that wasn’t theirs to waste for fun. Except, Luke wasn’t there anymore. Han frowned and jumped when the kid shot back up to the window sill, blond hair splayed in all directions.

“Yes, I’m Leia’s _brother_! So, yeah, I guess I am!” Luke scrambled up to smooth out his frayed hair and straighten his shirt, trying to at least look half decent for someone who must’ve traveled far to save him. 

Plus he was kinda hot. 

Like really hot.

“I was captured by Mara Jade who works for the Empire. She locked me up in this special tower that inhibits my force abilities so I can’t get out on my own. You have to help me, Solo!”

“I thought you said you _weren’t_ a girl...?” Han grumbled out at a volume Luke surely couldn’t hear.

The man stood a little straighter, combed his hair with his gauntlet (which hardly did anything in putting the strands to order, mostly pulled hair out of his goddamned scalp f uc k this adviser of his was gonna get a boot in the ass real soon) and pulled his sword out again, raising it by thrusting it into the air.

Han ignored the pop of his arm screaming in protest at the rapid, energy depleting movement and puffed out his chest again, marching at the same time utilizing some rather archaic speech for the sake of tradition. “Aye, it seems so. That is of no matter, this, I swear. Fair maiden trapped in the tower before me—”

“Uh,” Luke broke his demeanor of secondhand embarrassment, attempting to fight the cringe still completely contorting his face. “M-Mr. Prince Solo? I’m not a female, I already said this.”

Was this guy as bright as the tunnels of Geonosis or was he doing this just to be a dickhead?

Han halted his march and sighed loudly, body slumping as his sword hit the hard sand beneath his feet. He wiped his face again. “Okay, so, I know you said that — and I had asked to make sure— but you were captured by Mara Jade? She’s like... An adorably cute redhead. Y’know, I’ve met her once or twice before. I don’t think she could hurt a fly.” Han shrugged, crossing his arms, the weight of his sword practically nothing during the moment.

Luke gaped down at the man first, then bridled his fury at the ignorant comment. “Why… _Yes_. She’s a politically active figure as well. She can be a very kind woman to those who grace her with their company.”

“Yeah, and?”

“ _And_ — she’s also a _sith_ apprentice!” snapping out the obvious, Luke fought the rise of his palm going to slap his face at this dude’s ignorance.

Has this so-called prince never stepped foot outside his own kingdom or what? A war’s been raging since his father was young!

Han scratched his head, nodding, “Yeah, yeah, all that doohickey magic, mumbo-jumbo and stuffs. Are you a Jedi or somethin’?”

Finally! This guy was _finally_ asking the right questions! “Yes, I am. I am a Jedi, like my father before me; Anakin Skywalker.”

“Anakin? Anakin Skywalker only had a daughter from what I recall.” Han swiveled his head away in thought, just in time to miss Luke’s infuriated glare at the unintentional jab to his sex again.

“Luke… Luke Skywalker?”

Luke threw his hands up, “Yes, that’s right!” 

— Hooray!

“Sorry, I only know of a Leia Skywalker.”

— fucK

This time, Luke slapped a hand to his face instead of thinking of doing so. “Alright, so, what part of _male_ —” Luke gestured at his body though Han wasn’t there to see the rest of it, “do you not understand, here?”

"Well..." Han shrugged nonchalantly and yawned, stretching a bit. At least the twin suns were beginning to relent.

“Your hair is beautiful, like a waterfall of endless gold shimmers. You’ve got a beautiful voice, one I’m sure was blessed by the goddesses, and one I wouldn’t mind hearing in the morning to wake me from fitful slumbering,” Han kicked a pebble and Luke thought it looked like a means to convey shyness. “And you’ve also got a dress on, so....”

Whether Han was shy (that was kinda cute to consider) or he simply needed to think of a final reason, Luke didn’t know and didn’t exactly care. Luke brought a hand up to twist an unruly lock between his thumb and index finger, frowning.

“My hair is kept short because it’s hard to maintain if dirtied in this tower. I’ve got a decently pitched voice because I talk to my R2-unit often, and he makes a lot of trilling noises to communicate. I can bet that’s why. I also wear this dinky little tunic because it’s all I have left to wear. My Jedi robes were taken from me when I was captured. It’s not a dress if that’s what you’re really thinking it is.”

Once again, the prince was quiet, contemplating god knows freakin what. (The Gods didn’t know jack either to be honest) He then rubbed his chin before smiling, but only a little.

“Alright then, fine. I believe you. So, you want to get back to it?” Han arched a brow and Luke nodded.

“Fair— … Boy— Boyden? Maiden — Boyden— no, nah. That doesn’t sound right either...”

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose at Han’s sad attempt to familiarize a rather unfamiliar situation.

“How about using my name, ‘ _Luke_ ’?”  
  
“Fairest _Skywalker_ ,” Luke rolled his eyes. “May you please let down your hair so—”

“My hair is short!” Luke reiterated and shook his head wildly, emphasizing the length of his hair by whipping it around, “My _sister_ is Leia. I’m _not_ Leia. _She’s_ the one with the long hair.”

Han cursed and Luke could only hear the traces of it filtering the hot air.

Luke slumped against the window tiredly, exhausted by the heat. How had his luck ever gotten so bad? “Come on, Prince Solo.”  
  
“I will not ask for your glorious hair then, dearest. Grow it next time and we wouldn’t have this problem again. Plus, you’d probably look pretty hot anyway.”

Luke’s cheeks heated bright red and he blamed the heat wave making ripples in the air. The high-temperature mirage was almost enough to convince himself. "In any case, have you really no way down, love?”

“I’ve been trapped in this tower for months, maybe even a year by now... If I had a way down to use the restroom normally, then I would’ve. Do you know what it’s like to use a bucket every time?” Luke brooded, exhibiting his prior trials as he leaned against the window sill. “It’s pretty gross, I might add.”

Too much information, way too much information. )

Holy hell if Luke was a 10 to Han, he was like— a high 8 now. (8.5? who the fuck does the math here)

Han had his lips pursed tightly. “I—” He started, hesitating for once, “I, uh, don’t know— how to reply to that.” 

Luke just mounted a brow, “Don’t you have any way to come and help me? How were you going to save Leia if she were in my place?” Luke cut Han’s instant reply off, “And _if_ she didn’t have very long hair for you to climb up with.”

“Uh, what’s stopping you from walking out the exit then?” Han scratched his head, blinking, “If this tower is stopping you from using the force to get out, have you ever thought about just maneuvering through the tower like…… A _normal_ person would?”

“The tower doors are chained up. I’ve tried and tried for a long time to pry open the locks, but nothing works. I broke most of the kitchen utensils to try and break the locks too. Do you know what it’s like trying to eat a nerf steak without cutting it? I feel like a barbarian.”

“You complain a lot, too.” Han sighed and remained subdued as Luke glared at him, blushing,

Wow, this kid was totally cute as fuck. Where had he been all his life if he was really a Skywalker? He would’ve tapped that ass long ago if he had the chance. Who was he kidding— he’d probably tap that ass now if he could've.

“Being locked in this blasted tower gives me plenty of reason to complain, you _ass_! I have no one to talk to but myself and my R-unit; Artoo (R2; holy fuck how does one specify here what the shit) He’s the only one here who keeps me company.”

For a moment, Luke had thought he stepped over the line by calling Prince Idiot over here an asshole because it looked as though the man practically short-circuited at the mention of his droid again.

“Aren’t most R-Units supplied with thrusters and splicing capabilities?”

Okay, so Prince Dumbass wasn’t really that dumb. He proposed some good ideas so far. It was just too bad Luke was already pretty smart on his own and had thought of it before.

“Yeah, they are, especially my unit. Artoo is equipped with the best, but Mara was ready for that. We tried slicing open the doors but it seems to be made from an even stronger metal. If I had my lightsaber, I could probably cut through it, but I don’t.”

Han shook his head quickly, “No, I’m more interested in his thrusters. Has he used them at all? He’s got fuel left in them, right?”

The blond Jedi frowned, retracted his statement on Han’s intelligence another time. “What do you think he can do? Skyrocket out of the tower hard and fast enough to blow a hole out of the roof?”

Han made a face, “No. That’s just stupid.”

“Then what?”

“Well… Most units are at least a meter off the ground… Couldn’t you just… I don’t know— have your unit carry you… And you just basically ride your R2-unit out the window?”

Luke shot an index finger into the air and opened his mouth to protest, then quickly closed his mouth, dumbfounded. “… Actually… I suppose I could try. I’ve tried climbing down the tower, but at one point, it gets too slippery for me to move… Okay, one second.”

Han watched as the maiden vanished from the window (han was apparently still having difficulty for whatever fucking reason) and gasped when something shot out the window, blurring in the sky from the sheer acceleration. Holy hell ?? if this kid died, what about his reward!

As the object slowed, Han could finally discern it  _was_ Luke riding an R2-unit but it seemed the thrusters were giving out. He supposed there had been too much fuel being utilized to launch both he and his master.

Scrambling with his arms out, Han frantically ran around the open field he had stood in to converse with Luke from the tower. Oh shit! This kid was gonna be a dustcrepe if he hit the ground at that speed!

Where was Chewbacca when you needed the giant furry bastard to come and help him? Probably still hiding in some stupid tree he managed to find on Tatooine because his fur made him too hot in the sun… Punk bitch….. man up, already….. (Wookiee up, han, he’s a fucking _wookiee_ )

“Oh, _gods_ — _oh_ , fuck— oh, sHI _T_ —”

The crash to the surface was drowned out by Artoo’s high pitched screaming. (where are his speakers located and what tape is thick enough to shut him up guys eardrums across the nation have suffered long enough)

Luke opened his eyes as he removed his hands, coming face to face with a handsome man who looked to be in a lot of pain. Luke swiveled his head around to see Artoo face down on the ground, whirring softly. Good, at least he wasn’t in pieces.

“Well, well, well.” A deep, strained voice said, and Luke looked back down in surprise from how quickly Han had recovered. He even had a dirty grin on his face. “Okay, I give. So, you’re _not_ a fair maiden. My chest plate’s thin enough to tell.” He lifted his shoulders, untroubled by that fact. “And you’re even prettier up close.”

Luke ignored Han’s compliment and his own heart kick-starting from the words.“Your idea _worked_!” Luke exclaimed as he scooted back on the metal chest plate he sat on, helping Han sit up since he felt somewhat guilty he’d landed on top of the man. Luke threw his arms around Han’s neck anyway, “You have no idea how horrible it was up there. I’ve been waiting for ages for someone to come rescue me.”

The prince blinked in bewilderment and promptly blushed blicci red, not expecting Luke to suddenly be so affectionate toward him. That wasn’t how people normally liked to treat him and it didn’t help that Luke was sitting in his lap.

“Yeah,” Han pried the kid off him and asked, “So, will there will be a reward for me from King Skywalker then?”

Luke seemed to visibly deflate at that, but nodded. “Yes, you will have your reward, Solo.” With that, he stood briskly, “But we’ll see about when. My father may not have returned from his long journey quite yet. For years he’s been hunting down this Hutt that had enslaved he and his mother. My father had married into royalty if you didn’t already know.”

Luke brushed off the dust from his ugly, oversized tunic and shook the debris from his hair. When he turned back, Han looked very perplexed while sweating buckets. Poor guy looked about ready to pass out in this heat— oh, Han was from Corellia! Guess he wasn’t used to Tatooine’s blistering weather yet.

“A certain Hutt… He wouldn’t happen to go by Jabba, would he? He’s got a sausage for a tongue and he liked to leer at you for prolonged amounts of time ‘till you feel like you’ve got to look away or else he might actually swallow you whole?”  
  
Luke furrowed his eyebrows as Artoo rolled up to them, finally having gotten himself upright. He had a feeling that Han spoke from personal experience.

“…Yeah… _Jabba_ the _Hutt_. Why?”

“Let’s just say I have some unfinished business to attend to with him. And I kind of owe him some money. ...Okay, _a lot_ of money. It’s why I’m in need of the reward. How about you come with me, kid, and we can find your father together— wherever he is, and then I’ll take you both to Jabba’s lair. How’s that?”  
  
“That sounds great!” Luke nodded enthusiastically, grinning wide and happily for the first time in months.

Not only did a super hot Corellian prince come and save him from a locked tower, he was going to see his father for the first time in a long time and all while accompanied by said ™Fabulous Prince.

Right then, a transient thought passed slow enough to leave lingering traces of guilt. “But you won’t have any of your reward until we find my father… And who knows when we’ll find him next. He’s been searching for Jabba for years. I don’t even know if he’s still on Tatooine looking for him.”

Han frowned, “Y’know he’s down in Mos Espa, right? It’s just a mile away from here. He’s lived there for… _years_.”

“Well, shit,” Luke grunted in thought, questioning how furious his father would be at his own ignorance from not checking the local towns before setting off on his journey. Maybe it would be smart to not tell him that. Yeah, go with that.

“Thanks for the information. I’ll send word to my kingdom. You’ve just done so much for me in one day, is there anything I can do to repay you for now? I don’t have anything of value on me, but I’m sure you’ll get that soon.”

Han shrugged and began walking with Luke to get back to the main road, hoping they were actually going the correct route and not the wrong one because he may or may have been staring at Luke’s ass when he walked a little ahead. (he totally was ‘cause han’s never heard of the word _subtle_ in his life)

“Nah. For now, and until we find your dad, that’s two you owe me.”

Luke grinned and threw himself into Prince Han Solo’s arms, kissing his cheek, “So, now that you saved me from my peril; when’s the wedding going to be? Can we have one in a big garden? I like plants.”

“W-Wait a second here. Wedding? What wedding?” Han stuttered, trying to shove off this trigger happy kid. One second he’s all smiles and another second he’s frowning like he’s done something way out of line.

By the tides of Tyrena, what had he gotten himself into?

“It’s customary tradition on Tatooine. You saved me from peril, now we’re to be bonded. It helps that you’re royalty, too. My story is a little more complicated but I’ll explain it sometime. You’re from Corellia right? I’ve never been to Corellia. I hear it’s completely different from here. And that it’s got oceans—” Luke suddenly yelled out right next to the man’s ear, deafening Han as he clung tighter, _“I FORGOT ABOUT THE OCEANS._ I’ve never seen any oceans!”

Han sighed and trudged on, dragging the youth’s form with him, Luke’s short legs made trails in the Tatooinian dust.

 

This was going to be hell.

 

 

> ** Epilogue - (after rescuing Anakin and punching jabba in the face (A lot))  
>  **

 

  
  
Luke laughed loudly as he was dragged away by Han, “A little handsy, aren’t you?” (what the fuck else was he gonna use to drag luke away? His foot? God this stupid ass kid never learned even after all this time)

They ended up in a somewhat secluded area, away from the throng of people crowding the palace garden. Their guests were loud and drunk as hell and Han thought he heard Chewbacca roar out ‘don’t touch my junk you puny human with the small testicles, you’re nowhere near worthy for even a finger to fondle’ in Shyriiwookian.

“Shut up,” Han grumbled in the shadows as he moved Luke closer to him and embraced him, hugging him tight then kissing him softly. “Love you, kid.”

“I love you, too. Now why did you drag me here? We’re missing the after-party to our own wedding, you know.” Luke brushed away locks of unruly brown hair with affection in his eyes, “Unless you wanted to break away from the party?”  
  
“All your friends are weird,” Han said immediately. Luke frowned. “Why does everyone feel compelled to touch my ass even though I said I didn’t wanna follow that particular tradition? I said it respectfully, too.”

“Who the heck told you that was a tradition?” Luke moved out of Han’s arms to grip his biceps, concerned.

Han creased his forehead by pushing his eyebrows together, “All your aunties told me that. ...And your dad was the one who reassured me about it. They said it was a platonic love of some sort. You mean it’s not true?”  
  
Luke snorted, “No, it’s not. They wanted to touch your butt, Han.” (But so did luke, but that was for later)

Han never had the chance to finish complaining to Luke for they were discovered by Luke’s personal assistant.

“Master Luke!” Threepio shouted, his eyes flashing in alarm. Luke broke away from Han entirely, making the older man feel like a kicked womp-rat.

“Your sister has been captured and taken to the death star by the empire! They’ve finally acted on their word to attack the neighboring kingdoms, and that includes _ours_!”

“That isn’t good. No wonder she told me she suddenly couldn’t make it to the wedding. She _was_ acting pretty weird...” Luke said to Han gravely, rubbing his chin, “Threepio, I need you to—

“What are we to do, Master Luke? We’ll never survive an attack from that floating death ball. Corellia will be blasted away!”  
  
“Threepio—”

“Oh, the _humanity_!”

Luke groaned and turned back to Han, “Looks like we’ve got another rescue mission on our hands. Sorry, Han. But at least you won’t have dad yelling at you the whole time?”

 

“Oh, great.” Han looked at his husband, quite troubled, “I’ve got a _bad_ feeling about this.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> for my darling @corelliasfinest on tumblr ❤


End file.
